Friday, 2 May 1873

Fine weather, a little windy. At the promenade, on foot first, then in a four-seat carriage with two horses (black silk and velvet dress, new hat). We went to choose a gift for Maman — tomorrow is her name day. Dina bought a very pretty fan, fifty francs; I ordered a bouquet. We saw Mlle Collignon's man again — he did not seem to see her. But she nearly fainted. As if it were worth it, for a skeleton like that!
In the evening, to the French Theater (white dress, hair down — good). Cadet Roussel — a farce like none I have ever seen — La Corde sensible, Edgard et sa bonne. A benefit performance for Fontaine, a pretty girl but not a good actress, one of the last. They gave her a dozen bouquets. All the men were there. The show was funny and stupid beyond all description.
I am sad; I think of him. On the way home they spoke of the exhibition. Markevitch said that at the Lyon one, there were splendid things: landaus, etc. I can feel how I would be inflamed at the sight of all that. I would want to buy everything; I would want to be known there; I would want to be known, to order something.